Good Alibi
by iviscrit
Summary: She knows he's gotten the last word in and anything else she says will pale in comparison so she mutters "Good alibi," and works her wrists free. Oneshot. Please R&R!


A/N: Hey all! I'm back, and I thought I'd knock out this little oneshot that popped into my head. You can decide what exactly it is that they were doing; I'll be lazy and let you say in the comments. And I promisepromisepromise I'll update "If He'd Gotten the Job" sometime soon... once I have time. Enjoy!

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><p>"I'm not sure I'm okay with this," Minerva said, shrugging. "But carry on, you certainly won't hear me protesting."<p>

"'Carry on'?" Tom inquired, feeling vaguely insulted. "It's like you're _trying_ to offend me."

"Can't help it, there're so many 'you're a baby' jokes just waiting to be used," she retorted, stretching languidly. "Planning on heading back, then, since I was so rude?" She lowered her lashes, seeing his face over hers. "Because _I_ would prefer you to...carry on."

Tom didn't take kindly to insults, not even those made in jest, and he made it clear now with plithy excuses. "There's not nearly enough time," he said in a blase manner, turning away from her. "I should be getting back."

"You're being such a _child._"

"If you think that will make me stay, you'll be sorely disappointed," he said, back still to her. "Besides," he added, finishing with his buttons and looking for his green and silver tie, "that was nearly the worst thing you could have said to me under the present circumstances."

Minerva hit herself on the forehead with the palm of her hand and swallowed her pride. "Okay, I'm sorry. And there's still time. At least stay and talk with me."

"You know I despise that sort of thing."

"Tom," she wheedled, "please. I want company."

"Go find Poppy."

"No, what I have in mind won't suit her." She tugged his arm. "Stay."

"Yes!"

She smiled. "Thanks, darling. Really, I'm sorry. You shouldn't take my teasing so seriously-"

"No, not you. I found my tie!" He shrugged her away and put it on. "Bit dusty from being under there. Doesn't show, does it?"

She rolled her eyes at his fasidiousness. "Not at all." She flopped back down. "Honestly, you're as picky about your clothes as any girl. Now why won't you stay?" She pouted, trying to keep her voice from sounding whiny.

"Because. It's for your own good. I'll be the death of you." Something about the way he said it, his young voice so deep and ominously serious, troubled her. She held his gaze, tring to gauge whether or not he was joking. He didn't seem to be.

"What do you mean, Tom?" she asked slowly.

His face lit up with a wickedly impish grin. "I'm no expert on magical law, but I'm pretty sure stat rape is enough to send you to Azkaban, and let's face it, you wouldn't last a day."

She laughed, relieved. "You look positively diabolical, Tom." She looked around her, flopping onto her back again. "Where do you suppose my glasses have gotten to? Did you see them with your tie?"

"I'll check." he disappeare under the bed a second time. "Found them."

She put them on, and the world zoomed into sharp clarity. "Thanks. You know, in the time we spent arguing, there was time enough to-"

"See you in class, Minerva." He left without another word, taking with him her hair ribbon as a trophy as well as her chance to get the last word in. She smiled even as she shook her head.

"Typical."

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><p>Word of Myrtle's death spread quickly. Apparently it had happened fairly early that day, and a green ribbon had been found with her body.<p>

"Do you know anything about it?" Dumbledore was speaking to the prefects collectively, but she felt as though he were speaking directly to her as they stood in Dippet's office. She felt obligated to answer. The ribbon was hers, of that she was certain, but she couldn't be sure if it was the one Tom had taken with him. She swallowed.

"No, sir," she replies, voice sounding choked. He nods at her, blue eyes piercing, but not angry. She dimly registers that he is asking the other prefects what they know, and she notices how calmly Tom answers, his voice measured and carefully polite.

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><p>"You weren't there when she died, were you?" she asks him quietly during transfiguration later that day, face hidden behind a book. "Dumbledore thinks it happened early in the morning..." and she lets her voice trail off.<p>

"Of course not, Minerva," he replies easily, looping her wrists together with the green ribbon he seems to have produced from nowhere, prompting her to drop her book and exclaim with surprise. "I was with you the whole time, remember?" He smiles, almost suggestively.

She knows he's gotten the last word in and anything else she says will pale in comparison so she mutters "Good alibi," and works her wrists free.

"I like to think so," he says in a most self-satisfied tone, and he returns to his work, face obscured by his arm, smile devious, untempered and positively wicked.

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><p><strong>Hope y'all liked it! This was a quickie, written in around fifteen minutes. Can I call it a drabble? And tell me what exactly you think Tom's alibi was in the reviews. See what I did there? I reminded you to review, but I did it so very tactfully. So click the review button please :)<strong>


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